Shirley & Marcy

A mother was concerned about her kindergarten son walking to school. He didn't want his mother to walk with him. She wanted to give him the feeling that he had some independence but yet know that he was safe. So she had an idea of how to handle it. She asked a neighbor if she would please follow him to school in the mornings, staying at a distance, so he probably wouldn't notice her. She said that since she was up early with her toddler anyway, it would be a good way for them to get some exercise as well, so she agreed. The next school day, the neighbor and her little girl set out following behind Timmy as he walked to school with another neighbor girl he knew. She did this for the whole week. As the two walked and chatted, kicking stones and twigs, Timmy's little friend noticed the same lady was following them as she seemed to do every day all week. Finally she said to Timmy, "Have you noticed that lady following us to school all week? Do you know her?" Timmy nonchalantly replied, "Yeah, I know who she is." The little girl said, "Well, who is she?" "That's just Shirley Goodnest," Timmy replied, "and her daughter Marcy." 'Shirley Goodnest? Who is she and why is she following us?' "Well," Timmy explained, "every night my Mum makes me say the 23rd Psalm with my prayers, 'cuz she worries about me so much. And in the Psalm, it says, 'Shirley Goodnest and Marcy shall follow me all the days of my life', so I guess I'll just have to get used to it!" The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face shine upon you and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace. May Shirley Goodnest and Marcy be with you today and always

health

1- Find the C below...do not use any cursor help. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 2- If you already found the C, now find the 6 below. 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 69999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 3 - Now find the N below. It's a little more difficult. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMNMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM This is NOT a joke. If you were able to pass these three tests, you can cancel your annual visit to your neurologist. Your brain is great and you're far from having a close relationship with Mr Alzheimer. Eonvrye whocan raed this rsaie your hnad. To my 'selected' strange-minded friends: If you can read the following paragraph, forward it on to your friends and the person that sent it to you with 'yes' in the subject line... Only great minds can read this This is weird, but interesting! If you can raed this, you have a sgtrane mnid too Can you raed this? Olny 55 plepoe out of 100 can. I cdnuolt blveiee that I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd what I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in what oerdr the ltteres in a word are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is that the frsit and last ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can still raed it whotuit a pboerlm. This is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the word as a wlohe. Azanmig huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! If you can raed this forwrad it

It is time to change fromREDNECKhumor toTRUE AMERICAN Humor!! Only it isn't seen as HUMOR, but the correct way to LIVE YOUR LIFE!! If you feel the same, pass this on to yourTrue American friends. Y'all know who they are... You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, 'One nation, under GOD.' You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in publicplaces. You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You still say 'Christmas' instead of 'Winter Festival.' You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You bow your head when someone prays. You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National Anthem. You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have. You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You've never burned an American flag. You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is listening. You might be a TRUE AMERICAN if: You respect your elders and expect your kids to do the same. If you got this email from me, it is because I believe that you, like me, have justenoughTRUE AMERICAN in you to have the same beliefs as those talked about in this email. GOD Bless the U S A !Amen AND YOU ARE A TRUE AMERICAN, IF YOU THINK THE NATIONAL ANTHEM SHOULD ONLY BE SUNG IN ENGLISH!!

In the name of Love

In the name of Love A little boy came up to his mother in the kitchen one evening while she was fixing supper, and he handed her a piece of paper that he had been writing on. After his mom dried her hands on an apron, she read it, and this is what it said: For cutting the grass $5.00 For cleaning my room this week $1.00 For going to the store for you .50 Baby-sitting while you went shopping .25 Taking out the garbage $1.00 For getting a good report card $5.00 For cleaning up and raking the yard $2.00 Total Owed: $14.75 Well, I'll tell you, his mother looked at him standing there expectantly, and boy, could I see the memories flashing through her mind. So she picked up the pen, turned over the paper he'd written on, and this is what she wrote: For the nine months I carried you while you grew inside me, No Charge. For all the nights I've sat up with you, doctored and prayed for you, No Charge. For all the trying times, and all the tears you've caused through the years, No Charge. When you add it all up, the cost of my love is, No Charge. For all the nights that were filled with dread, and for the worries I knew were ahead, No Charge. For the toys, food, clothes, and even wiping your nose, there's No Charge, Son. And when you add it all up, the full cost of real love is No Charge. Well, friends, when our son finished reading what his mother had written, there were great big old tears in his eyes, and he looked straight up at his mother and said, "Mom, I sure do love you." And then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote : "PAID IN FULL."

Might be good to listen a little better

In a Tottenham church Sunday morning a preacher said, "Anyone with 'special needs' who wants to be prayed over, please come forward to the front by the altar." With that, Leroy got in line, and when it was his turn, the Preacher asked, "Leroy, what do you want me to pray about for you?" Leroy replied, "Preacher, I need you to pray for help with my hearing." The preacher put one finger of one hand in Leroy's ear, placed his other hand on top of Leroy's head, and then prayed and prayed and the whole congregation joined in with great enthusiasm. After a few minutes, the preacher removed his hands, stood back and asked, "Leroy, how is your hearing now?" Leroy answered, "I don't know. It ain't 'til Thursday

If this is true,then there is a beautiful soul working in the dead letter office of the US postal service. Our 14-year-old dog Abbey died last month. The day after she passed away my 4-year-old daughter Meredith was crying and talking about how much she missed Abbey. She asked if we could write a letter to God so that when Abbey got to heaven, God would recognize her. I told her that I thought we could so, and she dictated these words: Dear God, Will you please take care of my dog? She died yesterday and is with you in heaven. I miss her very much. I 'm happy that you let me have her as my dog even though she got sick. I hope you will play with her. She likes to swim and play with balls. I am sending a picture of her so when you see her you will know that she is my dog. I really miss her. Love, Meredith We put the letter in an envelope with a picture of Abbey & Meredith , addressed it to God/Heaven. We put our return address on it. Meredith pasted several stamps on the front of the envelopeecause she said it would take lots of stamps to get the letter all the way to heaven. That afternoon she dropped it into the letter box at the post office. A few days later, she asked if God had gotten the letter yet. I told her that I thought He had. Yesterday, there was a package wrapped in gold paper on our front porch addressed, 'To Meredith' in an unfamiliar hand. Meredith opened it. Inside was a book by Mr. Rogers called, 'When a Pet Dies.' Taped to the inside front cover was the letter we had written to God in its opened envelope. On the opposite page was the picture of Abbey & Meredith and this note: Dear Meredith, Abbey arrived safely in heaven. Having the picture was a big help and I recognized her right away. Abbey isn't sick anymore. Her spirit is here with me just like it stays in your heart. Abbey loved being your dog. Since we don't need our bodies in heaven, I don't have any pockets to keep your picture in so I'm sending it back to you in this little book for you to keep and have something to remember Abbey by. Thank you for the beautiful letter and thank your mother for helping you write it and sending it to me. What a wonderful mother you have. I picked her especially for you. I send my blessings every day and remember that I love you very much. By the way, I'm easy to find. I am wherever there is love. Love, God

Fable of the Porcupine

Have you Ever seen a baby porcupine?

Fable of the Porcupine It was the coldest winter ever. Many animals died because of the cold. The porcupines, realizing the situation, decided to group together to keep warm. This way they covered and protected themselves; but the quills of each one wounded their closest companions. After awhile, they decided to distance themselves one from the other and they began to die, alone and frozen. So they had to make a choice: either accept the quills of their companions or disappear from the Earth. Wisely, they decided to go back to being together. They learned to live with the little wounds caused by the close relationship with their companions in order to receive the heat that came from the others. This way they were able to survive. The best relationship is not the one that brings together perfect people, but when each individual learns to live with the imperfections of others and can admire the other person's good qualities. The moral of the story is:

Just learn to live with the Pricks in your life!

great story Even if its not Christmas

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly." George said. He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh." Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front.. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away. "But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good." George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought. George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on. "Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln . They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway. As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me." George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. "Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance." The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio. He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area." George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain." George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked. "None for me," said the officer.. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time. The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before. "That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer. "Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt." The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!" The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now." He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pea shooter away." George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week." George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can." He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out." The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer." "Shut up and drink your coffee " the cop said. George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer. "Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?" "GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man. Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran." George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job." The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?" Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything." "Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems." George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day." The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you." "And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need." George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours." The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. "And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family." The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good." "Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after." George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?" "I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?" "Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby." The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor. The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. "That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man." George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man. "Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again." The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned." George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room. "You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas." George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus"

Jeremiah 29:11

Jeremiah 29:11 "for I know the plans I have for YOU, declares the LORD "Never give the devil a ride, he will want to take over the driving." Dear People of God Be still for a while and praise God for His favor, His grace and His awesomeness God is able to do the impossible and is always near He loves us unconditionally. Dear God: This is my friend, whom I love and this is my prayer for them Help them live there life To the fullest. Please promote them And cause them to excel Above there expectations. Help them to shine In the darkest places Where it is impossible To love. Protect them at all times, Lift them up when they need You the most, And Let them know when they walk with you, they will always Be safe. Do not ask the Lord to Guide your footsteps. If you are not willing To move your feet.

Tiny Cabin in West Virginia

Tiny Cabin in West Virginia A social worker from a big City in Massachusetts recently transferred to the Mountains of West Virginia and was on her first tour of her new territory when she came upon the tiniest cabin she had ever seen in her life. Intrigued, she went up and knocked on the door. "Anybody home?" she asked. "Yep," came a kid's voice through the door. "Is your father there?" asked the social worker. "Pa? Nope, he left afore Ma came in," said the kid. "Well, is your mother there?" persisted the social worker. "Ma? Nope, she left just afore I got here," said the kid. "But," protested the social worker, "are you never together as a family?" "Sure, but not here," said the kid through the door. "This is the outhouse!" Government workers are so very smart. Aren't you overjoyed that they'll soon be handling all our financial, educational and medical dilemmas?

a story about Carl - a very good lesson to read about

Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much.
He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake.


Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years,
no one could really say they knew him very well.


Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning.
The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us.


He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII.


Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII,
he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.


When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.


He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened.


He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him.
Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked,
"Would you like a drink from the hose?"


The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.


As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down.
As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.


Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg.
He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.


Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it.


"Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.


Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.
"Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday."


His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose.
He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.


Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.



Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel.
Carl was a man from a different time and place.


A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged.
Carl again offered them a drink from his hose.


This time they didn't rob him.
They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water.


When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.


Carl just watched them.
Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.


The summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him.
He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.


As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.


"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time."



The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.


"What's this?"
Carl asked. "It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back.
Even the money in your wallet." "I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"


The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you we picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate."


He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back."


He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.


Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.


He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather.


In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.


The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life.



In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."


The following spring another flyer went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden."


The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door.


Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.



The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl.


He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."


The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done.


During that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.


One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."


"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"

"Carl," he replied.


That's the whole gospel message simply stated.





GOOD FRIENDS
ARE LIKE ANGELS, YOU DON'T HAVE TO SEE THEM TO KNOW THEY ARE THERE